


remember me once more

by mozarteel



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! 5D's, Yu-Gi-Oh! ARC-V
Genre: Angst, M/M, a tiny bit of flower language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-29
Updated: 2015-06-29
Packaged: 2018-04-06 20:47:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4236075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mozarteel/pseuds/mozarteel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack sees him in his dreams.</p>
            </blockquote>





	remember me once more

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [this](https://twitter.com/dorunasch/status/605323214227542016) tweet and a personal theory about alternate timelines and how all the protags from their own series never existed in the Arc-V universe, but some people who're close to them in their original verse sometimes feel a sense of loss because of this. Naturally I saw the chance for angst and took it.
> 
> Originally posted on [tumblr](http://mozarteel.tumblr.com/post/120490459676/remember-me-once-more).

He is there again, in Jack’s dream. Standing with his back to him, staring at something in his cupped hands, in the middle of a junkyard.

Jack recognises this place; it was one of his old playgrounds when he was nothing but a Commons child. His current social circle would take one look at this place, scoff, and declare it nothing more than a garbage dump. Piles of junk going higher than he is tall, almost like it’s trying to reach the sky. It’s true, maybe, but when he was young there was nothing better than the thrill of jumping between pieces of old furniture, going through used scraps for anything still salvageable, occasionally finding small trinkets that he hoarded like precious treasures.

“Hello again,” he announces, and the stranger ( _not a stranger_ , his mind supplies) turns around to face him.

“Hi, Jack.” The other man gives him a small smile, and he has so many questions for this mysterious person, like _who are you_ or _how do you know me_ but the only thought that comes to his mind is _why why why does his heart hurt whenever he looks at that face?_

There’re too many questions he needs to ask, and his instinct tells him there won’t be enough answers, so he focuses on the easiest one yet. He raises his chin, crosses his arms, and jerks his head towards the stranger’s still-cupped hands. “What do you have there?”

“Ah,” the stranger replies, glancing down at his hands. “I wanted to show you something. It’s not much, but I think it’s beautiful. Here, give me your hand.”

Jack tilts his head, curious now, and also a bit annoyed, because the man could just show whatever it is to him without all these theatrics.

As if he’s reading his mind, the man snorts, a small noise that leaves Jack both frowning and somehow charmed at the same time. “Oh, you’re one to talk about being dramatic.”

His frown deepens, but the stranger placates him. “I’m not reading your mind, it’s just that your face is so easy to read. Remember when we-”

A pause, then. “No,” he adds. “No, of course you don’t remember. That never happened, did it?”

The man’s face turns sad, his gaze sorrowful, and something in Jack protests violently at the sight. He wants to do something, and the wise thing to do (the thing his manager teaches him to do) is to comfort him, but for some reason, he has a powerful urge to-

 _Punch him in the gut_ , a voice (his voice?) encourages him.

Jack never denies the fact that he always follows his own gut feeling, so he does.

The stranger lets out a soft _oof_ , wincing a bit from where Jack’s fist meets his abdomen. “That doesn’t hurt as much as last time,” he comments, and Jack seethes, the feeling of annoyance increasing. But he looks into the stranger's eyes and his head spins with emotions, wondering _is he really making an observation about a punch right now_ , and what does he mean by _last time_? “I think you’ve gotten soft without me.” He’s even smirking, the bastard, and why did Jack ever think this man was mysterious and charming?

“Enough!” he barks. “I don’t have to deal with this kind of stuff in my own dream. Just show me what that is or I’m leaving!”

“You don’t actually decide when you can leave a dream, you know.” But he relents, and finally shows Jack the object he was holding so protectively.

It’s a small flower.

Bright and blue, five-petalled, with a white inner ring and a yellow centre. Jack doesn’t know the name of the flower, no time to learn about them during his harsh childhood, and too busy accepting duel challenges after he became an adult; but it has a fragrant scent, and the other man is right, it is beautiful. The colour reminds him of the man’s eyes, he thinks.

Jack’s not going to say that to his face, though. “That’s it?” he asks flatly, “I punched you for a flower?”

The man outright laughs now, and its incredible how such a small act changes his entire face. He looks (so young, so happy, _alive_ ) – he’s so blindingly bright Jack has to turn away, afraid he might shatter and turn to dust in this person’s presence.

He feels like crying and doesn’t understand why.

It takes the man a while to calm down and stop laughing, and when he does his face is serious again. “Hmm,” he muses. “Think of it as a gift, from me to you. I can’t be there with you this time, so I hope you will remember me whenever you look at this flower.”

 _This time_. Why does he keep saying that?

“What do you mean-” he begins, but the man interrupts him.

With his lips.

 _Oh_ , Jack wonders, as he realises that he’s being kissed by a random stranger (no, not a stranger, his name is– ) in his dream. _Oh, I do know you_.

It’s not a soft kiss, either. It’s hot and rough and the man pushes against him, tongue sliding against Jack’s lips before plunging into his mouth. His hand grabs at his back, as if he could keep him like this, keep them together in this dream, make him remember, because he wants him so, so much; and it’s so _unfair_ , after everything they’ve done, that the universe still decides he wasn’t allowed to exist _this time-_

“You,” Jack gasps when they break the kiss, both of them panting, closing his eyes to steady himself. “You’re Yu-”

He opens his eyes to the ceiling of his apartment and no blue-eyed (friend, rival, _partner_ ) stranger beside him.

After all, it was only a dream.

**Author's Note:**

> The flower Yusei gives Jack is called [forget-me-nots](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Forget-me-not), and in the language of flowers symbolises true love, fond memories, and _remembrance_.


End file.
